Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1887-03-11


recurrent and perplexing cry in rude
instrument formed by the crossing OF
two branches, of which the one sawed
upon the other like violin bow drawn
across a string. Both bow and string,
stout and tough of fiber, were worn
and polished by long practice OF that
solitary note. Even the lightest wood
has its hushed twitterings, its van sh-
| ings and inexplicable rustlings.
The copse depths into little noises start.
/ remember as a child being made
curious, then awed, and gradually
frightened by low sound resembling "a
gentle, regular breathing, which pro-
ceeded from under an alder-bush on
the edge of a swampy thicket. | drew
nearer and peeped in. The only live
thing visible was brown thrush, who,
in the act; but knew that was only
his usual conscious, embarrassed air,
and refused to suspect HIM of any con-
nection with the disturbance No
other ulprit appeared, and
ued, till my courage, like that of
Bob Acres. oozed away, and | fled, not
from an apparaiion, but from vibra-
ton.
More appalling than any sound is the
silence and lonesomeness of the deep
forest. One is haunted by the antiquity
which is symboled In long moss boards,
and which lies visible ali around in huge
decaying trees, the unburied ancestors
of the monarchs who are still standing
strong in their girSh of rings. 1t sug-
gests the Pa@ozo C era and the forma-
ton of coal to see those great trunks,
hewn down by time and tempest, half
sunken in the earth, and already per-
haps many seasons on in the existence
which is theirs after death. Covered
with MOSES and bright fungi, they
seem st II half sentient and more
wrought upon by age than the coal
itself, which has forgotten and become
inorganic so long ago that years do
not count. Among those aged gen
erations the mountain climber is an
anarchronism as well as an intruder,
and is confronted mt every step by the
question what he doth there Time has
put obstacles in his way; to make any
progress, he must Chamber over logs,
tack around powders. and avoid inn
penetrable places. There silence regns,
with break now and then, which
leaves it to settle again deere r than
before. Even so busy and cheerful a
sound as the woodpecker's hammer
divides and ntens flies the stiffness with
certain solemnity.
In ancient days of superstition the
croakng of Il raven foreboded ill-hap.
If there were an index eXpurgatory OF
New England birds, the Jay, for all his
heavenly plumage, would have to be
placed in it. There are few bird notes
more weird than that high scream of
his, heard in the autumn across the
brown fields or through the arches of
the pine grove. 1t rings through all
the aisles, making the quietude like a
hush of apprehension.
There are moments when. on entering
the woods, one seems to have broken III
upon some high festivity of Nature. A
few hours before, in the same spot Life
was suspended; one could walk from
end to end of the wood path and hear
not breath, detect no movement save
, of noiseless insects or little leaf-hued
frog, in complexion like his carpet
That was ut the noon-t de solstice, when
a rose-colored light filtered through
, broad leaves, and one could fancy siesta'
in progress behind the jalous'es OF
, green But later in the day what group
{ ings and activities! Squirrels start ant
, scuttle of, thrushes beat hasty retreat
= through the underbrush, partridgeS
t spring up with a sudden rustic of fir gh
and indignation, and go whirring away
, in loud protest. You have sturbe,
t the wood gods at their feast, the fairies
, at a gathering, and your sense of intru
9 sion is stronger than when you Wake,
Q through the empty halls while they slept
> There is something in these sylvan scat
> terings which suggests almost irressti
= bly, the breaking-up of fairy dance o
= flight of shy nymphs. In early morn
G ing such Interruptions give hints of
r whole night OF revelry, and tempt us t.
n believe little in 1.-THE good people,
+ and half regret Their ban shmcnt from
Y power. The pale nymphs dancing a
a dawn, in landscape of Corot's ar
h they not formed from the dawn itself
I. from the first shafts ana glimmering c
: light on the forests edge? And may nc
a myths have been evolved in the sam
n manner
. But of all imaginat ons that have pee
;. pied the woods, Shakespeare has mos
Y exquisitely fitted his creations into thei
if shadows and sun-ilecks, the r gree
/ gladcs and hooks. Mr.. Burroughs, /
e one of his delightful papers on the ma
: ural history of the poets, has paid trit
# ute to the wonderful accuracy of Shah
@ speare's incidental characterizations {
: birds and plants, But beyond this int
IS mate knowledge of herb and songste
o and creeping thing, there is in his on
it door comedies breadth of greenery,
il sense of the manifold harmonies an +,
e pose of the forest. a consciousness of il
|. many tints and meanings. The oak
h spread lovingly over Rosal,nd and til
- flowers grow about Perdita. The
Is speech does not disturb the quiet, nc
n ring false among the boughs. They je,
: and love; they were born in courts an
= must return thither; yet they belong {
is the greenwood, and we are never quit
}, reconciled to see ne them on the stag
If To find Shakespeare face to face, how
N ever, with the woods and the sky, we tur
;s tn The TempeSt | h we ALWAYS had